


Get Me George!

by tehfanglyfish



Series: Get Me George [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: On a very important day for Arthur, everything must be just right. Although honestly, Arthur has no reason to worry.





	Get Me George!

It was a beautiful day in Camelot. The weather was perfect – not too warm and not too cold. The sky was clear, the sun bright. A light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers through the castle keep. If one really reflected on the weather, one might begin to suspect sorcery at play, as the conditions were bordering on a little too perfect. But on this particular day, no one could afford the time to think such thoughts. Throughout the castle, servants, knights, and even nobles scurried about, making last minute preparations ahead of the arrival of a guest of honor.

Flowers were arranged, garlands draped, and welcoming banners strung up. Railings, fixtures, silverware – all were gleaming. Curtains had been laundered and windows washed. Geoffrey of Monmouth had been dusted. Stable hands immaculately groomed the palace horses, braiding blooms into their manes. The kitchens had bustled for days, basting, baking, and brewing for the evening’s lavish feast.

As the final touches were completed, all that remained was to prepare the king. Because Arthur wanted this day to go perfectly, he called for the only servant in Camelot who could be fully relied upon do what was needed for such an important occasion.

“Get me George,” he called to passing chambermaid.

Though his conversation might not be the most riveting, Arthur could find no fault with George’s abilities as a servant. It was, the king thought, like the man had literally been born for the position, as if the ancient magics of the Earth had decided to craft the ultimate servant. (Gentle reader, please bear with Arthur here. While it’s true that Merlin has been working to civilize him on matters of social rank and privilege, he is a product of his time and upbringing. And in Arthur’s defense, he does lead his knights into battle. No bone spurs would keep Arthur Pendragon at home during a fight.)

Arthur soon learned that that George wasn’t a bootlicker. When he thought it mattered, he would disagree with the king, just not with Merlin’s level of insolence.

“Sire, your choice of tunic is excellent for a hunt. Shall I prepare your ceremonial clothes for when you return?”

After a brief debate over attire, Arthur had to concede that George was right. This day called for something more formal.

Apparently, it also necessitated more stringent standards of hygiene. Typically, Merlin would prepare Arthur’s bathwater, always managing to get the temperature just right, but then leave Arthur to his own ablutions. George hovered, watching the king intently. Arthur wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more scrutinized. A slight clearing of the throat suggested that perhaps the king should spend a bit more time washing behind the ears. Arthur scrubbed harder.

Bathed, toweled, and clad in his small clothes, Arthur’s formal dressing could commence. Though George took care not to harm the royal person, he was a man who stressed style over comfort. Arthur found his clothes to be stiffer and itchier than usual, the result, George explained, of treating them with certain starching herbs.

“This way they won’t easily wrinkle, sire.  Though it would be better if you weren’t scratching like that.”

Belts and cinches were tightened as much as the king’s body would allow.

“Might be best not to sit, sire. I’ll make adjustments before the feast.”

Running a comb through Arthur’s hair, George deftly removed tangles, though not always painlessly.

“You do want to make a good impression, sire,” George reminded him as the king winced.

Armor, ceremonial sword, crown – all were the shiniest Arthur thought he’d ever seen them.

“Perhaps we should leave the boots until just before your guest arrives, sire. They might get scuffed walking down the stairs.”

And so, Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot, found himself shuffling through castle corridors in sock feet.

All the while George tended to him, Arthur couldn’t help but think about Merlin. It’s true that he was likely now the best-dressed ruler in the five kingdoms, but there had been no playful banter, no friendly barbs about his weight, and no lingering touches on his skin. Still, the circumstances of the day meant that Merlin couldn’t be the one to help him.

Grooming rituals completed, Arthur met up with the retinue of knights and nobles assembled on the courtyard steps. Apparently, George had distributed the starching herbs throughout the laundry, as everyone was picking at their clothes.

“They’re here!” called the page from the lookout tower.

The knights stopped fidgeting. Idle conservation trailed off. Everyone stood in position around Arthur, the king front and center. As the clopping of hooves on cobblestones grew nearer, the royal trumpeters raised their horns and blared out a greeting to the approaching guests. Arthur strode forward to meet two figures on horseback.

The king offered a hand to the first rider and, after helping her dismount, knelt before her. Silently, he cursed George for making his belt so tight.

“My lady, I welcome you to Camelot and thank you for making the long journey. It is my greatest hope that the union I have proposed will meet with your approval and that our two families can be joined as one.”

The courtyard fell completely silent as everyone held their breath, waiting for the reply.

The woman crouched down to Arthur’s level. Mindful of the audience, she whispered into his ear for a while, then met his gaze. The king nodded solemnly as the woman searched his face, appraising him. After what felt like an eternity to Arthur, the woman beamed and threw her arms around his shoulders. As she kissed his forehead, the gathered crowd erupted into cheering and the trumpeters struck up once more.

The second rider approached to help her stand. He then wrapped her in a tight hug until George ushered her away, muttering about the needs of a lady after a long ride and how some other servants clearly didn’t understand such things. The figure turned to Arthur who had managed to rise in spite of the starch and the belt.

“I missed you,” Merlin murmured, as he embraced his king. “You should’ve ridden to Ealdor with me. It’s been a long week without you.”

“Yes, well. I thought you might want to visit your mother without me… you hadn’t seen her in ages and you needed to talk. And that way if she didn’t… or you didn’t… it wouldn’t be… I’m glad you came back, Merlin.”

Merlin pulled back slightly to look Arthur in the eye.

“You absolute cabbage head! My mother’s thought of you as her second son since you fought Kanen’s men. And when I said I wanted to marry you, I meant it. I love you, Arthur. I always have. That’s not going to change, even if you do insist on ridiculous pageantry. Who dressed you, anyway? Your breeches look as though they could stand on their own.”

“Er… George. He apparently found something called starching herbs to prevent wrinkles.”

“I see… How long until the feast begins?”

“About an hour.”

“That should be plenty of time.”

“For what?”

“I’ll show you somewhere less public.”

“Oh.”

Citing important royal business, Arthur shuffled Merlin in the castle, up the stairs, and into his chambers.

When the pair arrived at the feast, on time but very flushed, George couldn’t help but be annoyed. He’d worked so hard get everything just right and yet in less than an hour they had managed to thoroughly rumple the king’s clothes. Clearly he needed to refine his starching formula, especially in light of the upcoming royal wedding.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory "I write only for the love of Camelot and not for monies" statement.


End file.
